


Once We Were

by lahijadelmar



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18440219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahijadelmar/pseuds/lahijadelmar
Summary: Varric wasn't looking for adventure. He certainly wasn't ready to make himself vulnerable to someone new. As ever, fate (or Andraste) felt differently, presenting him with a torn sky, an endless flood of demons, the end of the world and Avecyn Trevelyan to piece it all back together.A rewrite of my previous work 'Stabby and Squishy', as I've since played through Origins and DA2 and felt like approaching this story again with a different perspective. More chapters to come.





	Once We Were

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back. So, yes, a rewrite. Some of you may have already ready through 'Stabby and Squishy'. I enjoyed writing it, albeit rushed, but having since devoured both Origins and DA2 I felt like there was potential and perspective missing from that story that made it lack the justice it deserved. Some elements will be similar, some will be completely different. There'll be new plot twists, characters, etc, and really I'm just hoping I can write something I'm a bit happier with this time around. 'Stabby and Squishy' will stay up, of course, this is just...well, HOPEFULLY, a better version.

“Nice bow.” 

 

At the time it didn’t seem so incredibly profound, apart from the fact that she had noticed Bianca  _ first _ and Varric always hoped his crossbow would be the one thing that jumped out at people when they first met him. Back then, of course, she was a mystery, little more than the lady that had stumbled out of the fade with a glowing hand. Maybe she  _ had _ caused the whole conclave clusterfuck, no one really knew for sure. It wasn’t so unfathomable; he’d had to stand by and watch as Anders leveled the Kirkwall chantry in 5 seconds after all. People with power doing stupid, destructive things in the name of starting wars no one could win was well-within the realm of possibility. 

 

But she could also seal rifts and claimed ignorance about the whole thing. Despite himself, despite  _ everything _ , Varric didn’t have it in him to condemn her right away. If she  _ was _ just an innocent bystander caught in the chaos, he figured, it might have been something of a relief to have one person not pointing fingers.  

 

His instinct didn’t fail him that time. She willingly sealed the rift at the conclave and, just like that, people began calling her the  _ Herald of Andraste _ . How quickly the tables turned when people needed a beacon of hope. 

 

Not that he was criticizing. He needed one too. 

* * *

  
  
  


It was an odd situation they found themselves in after that. Despite her claim to fame, which he found himself unable to not believe, there was a groundedness to her that he hadn’t known in people thrust into large amounts of power before. Varric supposed that was a good thing. In the wrong hands divine providence could have been used as an excuse to abuse the privilege further, the absolute last thing they needed. She was also drawn to him, he guessed due to his own down to earth nature and the fact that their personalities were surprisingly compatible. That, and as ever, she probably needed a friend in the midst of everyone looking up to and throwing her into messes that needed cleaning. 

 

Actually, she had told him as much. 

 

“It’s not that I  _ don’t _ believe,” she explained one night around the Haven fire. “I mean...it’s a lot to take in, but if Andraste or the Maker wants me for this...well, I can’t exactly say  _ no _ , can I? It’s just a lot.” 

 

“I don’t think anyone’s asking you to  _ get it _ ,” Varric assured. “Maker knows I don’t. One thing we can say for sure? You’re exactly what the world needs right now. Hard to believe there isn’t a bigger hand in things.”

“Well... _ mine _ for sure, if nothing else.” 

 

She held up her rift hand and they laughed at that, likely funnier due to the ale they’d been sharing.

 

“But it’s...possible I was just a convenient target, right? In the right place at the right time? Just...hard to believe I of all people was hand chosen over all others. You saw the vision. I barged in at a crucial moment.” 

 

He shrugged. “It can’t be  _ that _ hard to accept that maybe there’s more to yourself than you realize.”

 

“No, no, I mean, I’m great, I get it,” she agreed in sarcastic concession. He chuckled into his ale. “Just not what I would’ve pinned as Andraste’s chosen. I’d have picked Leliana. Cassandra. Someone  _ like _ them, anyway. The most I’ve ever done is duck out of my family’s formal events without being noticed or missed. Ta-da, boom, she’s gone! No one gives a shit! That’s my wheelhouse. That’s what  _ I’m _ comfortable with.” 

 

“You and me both. But, well...it seems circumstance is asking us to rise to the occasion.” 

 

A silence passed between them then, as much an acknowledgment of the particulars of the situation as either of them were going to get. It was a heavy truth, anyway. How anyone just rose up and accepted something like that with full confidence was beyond him. Beyond her too, it seemed. 

 

“So...I know what I am to all of them. But what am I to you, Varric?” 

 

A loaded question to be sure, one he wasn’t sure he knew how to answer. As such, he hesitated long enough for her to amend,

 

“Let me...be more specific. If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like a  _ friend _ . You’re the only one around here who doesn’t talk to me like Andraste herself is constantly hovering over my head. Maybe I was chosen. Maybe not. Either way...I don’t want to stop being just Avecyn. This stuff gets heavy sometimes and I’d like to know there’s someone who doesn’t have to constantly remind me of it.”

 

“We  _ are _ friends,” he confirmed. There was no getting around that one. As for the other part of the request, however… “I can...try? Look, I can promise drink, Wicked Grace, and no mention of the Andraste stuff unless requested. Also unrelated stories. You say when, I’m there.” 

 

She toasted their mugs to that. 

 

“Deal.” 

* * *

  
  


Varric was never afraid of a well-meaning, strategically placed white lie, but there were certain boundaries he didn’t cross. For instance, he wasn’t going to tell the Herald he could just switch gears and  _ not _ see her on a pedestal forged by Andraste herself just because she asked him to. He liked her, after all, and Avecyn deserved better than that. But the whole intimidation thing seemed to ease on its own the more they got to know each other. Maybe when surrounded by advisors and followers she seemed something akin to a prophet’s hand-chosen servant, but on the road things were different. 

 

Was it the long, weary days and lack of any company other than Solas and Cassandra? Was it the wide-open areas and inherent feeling that nothing else existed but that and the padding of their boots in the mud? Maybe some combination of all these things, but agreeing on a game of taking turns throwing pebbles at Solas’ head definitely helped too. 

 

“I  _ know _ it’s one of you,” he said eventually, glaring their direction. 

 

Avecyn looked around, feigning bewilderment. “Wait, what…?” 

 

Varric shook his head. “Oh, right, blame it on the Dwarf. You’re not downwind of me, maybe it was Cassandra.” 

 

Cassandra’s head turned sharply from their lead at the mention of her name, but Solas wasn’t deterred. 

 

“I’m  _ talking _ about the stones that are hitting me at a suspiciously rhythmic pace. I thought it at first an anomaly, then it occurred to me that you two are always taking up the rear.” 

 

Avecyn stifled a laugh in a very undignified snort and Varric nudged her with a whispered, “Stop it,” even if it was kind of cute. 

 

“We’re the rogues,” Varric reminded him. “If we’re not scouting ahead, we’re flanking. It makes perfect sense. No one’s hitting you with stones, Chuckles. I think you’re getting a little delirious in all this fresh air.” 

 

At this point Cassandra saw fit to intervene, likely because the debate had stopped their progress completely. 

 

“Enough. Stop involving Solas in your childish pranks,” she ordered to the mischievous duo in a way neither of them would dare argue with. “No more arguments. We need to work together and  _ keep moving _ lest we become targets. Come along.” 

 

Varric and Avecyn exchanged looks like those of two children that had just been reprimanded, but she saw fit to break it by doing a silent facial impression of Cassandra. Varric answered that by doing his best Solas, mouthing out, ‘I  _ KNOW _ IT’S ONE OF YOU’. Once again Avecyn couldn’t keep her giggles quiet, but Cassandra’s second glare certainly did the trick.

 

Despite their shared fear of her it didn’t stop them from coming up with a  _ different _ game later at camp, one that they’d keep up on the sly for a good while.

 

“ _ What _ do you think you’re doing…?” Varric asked in a terse whisper as he saw Avecyn hauling Cassandra’s shield behind a nearby tree. It didn’t seem to matter she was off getting more firewood, Solas was procuring water, and they were otherwise alone. 

 

“I want to see how good she is at  _ seeking _ out her equipment if it’s slightly out of place. Not enough to be missing, just enough to have some fun. See? She’ll still spot it sticking it out over here.” 

 

He glanced around to make sure neither absent member of the party was making their way back. 

 

“Alright. Throw me her sword.” 

 

* * *

  
  


Avecyn, as it turned out, was rather good at making friends when the right people presented themselves. It didn’t come as a huge surprise, therefore, that she and Dorian would’ve hit it off so well early on to his being part of the Inquisition. Varric also suspected she might have had a little crush, or possibly just a hope to get him in bed. He suspected she was in for a disappointing surprise, but he wasn’t going to be the one to  _ tell _ her that. 

 

Either way, her increased absence from his company didn’t go unnoticed. It hadn’t really occurred to him that  _ he _ might have needed a like-minded soul around just as much as she did. He didn’t take it to heart, of course. She didn’t owe him anything and maybe he hadn’t been as open as a proper friend should be. It was difficult to make himself vulnerable in any sense of the word these days, he figured he’d been burnt enough for one lifetime. 

 

But then again, that was just the nature of things, wasn’t it? He could either keep taking calculated risks on the people he liked or retreat underground and barricade himself away from every potential connection that was out there for him. He decided a life lived without danger wasn’t for him. 

 

So, when they were done finally sealing the rift (which felt less like a finality and more like the calm before a storm) he approached her again in her house at Haven. 

“I haven’t made you feel neglected, have I?” she partially teased, handing him a drink. “Oh, Squishy.” 

 

“Cut it out, I hate when you get condescendingly sympathetic.” Though the self conscious smile betrayed him a bit. 

 

“It’s nothing personal, you know,” she assured. “I like you, a lot. You’re just...guarded. I’ve been trying to be careful.”

 

It was probably the first time anyone had characterized him that way, the first time anyone had bothered to  _ notice _ . The people close to him who would’ve cared, like Hawke, already knew everything. The people that weren’t often found him a long winded oversharer. He wasn’t sure what to make of her observation. 

 

“Well. I’ve never done the disciple-hood thing before. I don’t think it’s typical to be on this much of an informal basis with the boss lady. I’ve got to kind of...feel my way through this.” 

 

She scoffed as she poked and roused the fire. 

 

“You’re making me sound like a cult leader. Anyway, Maker help the group that makes  _ me _ boss of anything. I couldn’t lead a fish to water if I tried.” 

 

He shook his head. “Bad metaphor. No one can lead a fish to water- not if it’s flopping out on the ground. You’ve got to pick it up and throw it in.” He considered and then amended, “....nevermind, that’s actually perfect.” 

 

She chuckled and took the seat beside him with a tankard of her own. 

 

“It’s just a matter of time, you know,” he said after a beat. “If this group has a future all eyes are going to be on you. They already are, come to think of it.” 

 

He imagined she didn’t really want to discuss the prospect. He didn’t blame her. In any case, he knew deflection when he saw it and that came in the form of her changing the subject. 

 

“What about you? Will you be going back to Kirkwall now that the rift is taken care of?” 

 

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t considered it. Now would’ve been the perfect time to pack up and take off, but either due to that impending sense of future doom or the fact that he felt more than partially responsible he couldn’t shake the compulsion to stick around. But then again, maybe even all those things weren’t enough. He instead looked to her. 

 

“What do you think, Stabby?” A nickname he came up with due to her preference for daggers and rather bloodthirsty fighting style. “I’ll stay if you need Bianca’s assistance.”

“You  _ do _ realize that if Bianca was all that mattered I would’ve killed you and stolen her a long time ago, right?” 

 

Probably a joke but Varric wouldn’t have put it past her. 

 

“Ah, but she doesn’t fire quite right if it’s not me pulling the trigger. Better stick around a bit longer then?”

 

She laughed and squeezed his hand, but there was a heaviness to the moment now that hadn’t been there before. 

 

“I’d prefer it,” she admitted. “If I can be so selfish. Had to watch you leave once before, I’d rather not live to see it again.”

 

He  _ knew _ she was talking about what happened in the dark future Alexius’ conjured up, something they hadn’t talked at length about beyond the basic summary. Varric honestly wasn’t sure he wanted to know the whole story.  

 

But in the end, neither this nor his intentions mattered. There was a stirring of activity outside that didn’t seem to fit with the drunken merriment that had been going on prior to- also, the music had stopped. Dead giveaway.

 

They looked to each other, both questioning and certain of what it meant, then scrambled outside to face destiny.


End file.
